Tag Archives: humorous poem about death.

Femme Fatale

Image by Thiago Barletta on Unsplash used with permission

Femme Fatale

I must say the dress  she wore—that sexy little number
did much to rouse the bench sitters from their usual slumber.

They rooted and they murmured. Some stood to lift their caps
at the revealing nature of her dress—especially its gaps.

She did as much to ameliorate the boredom of their day
as all the other passersby who passed along the way,

causing some widening of some eyes, some laboring for breath,
but it is only rumor that she caused one codger’s death.

Some say they’d seen him earlier clutching at his chest,
so a contributing factor was what she was at best.

Prompt words today are rouse, root, labor, ameliorate and number.

Heavenly Retirement

Heavenly Retirement

She was the center of attention, a magical surprise.
She rivaled Cleopatra both in manner and in guise.
Her courtiers all fumbled in their desire to please her.
Her courters milled and tumbled in their urgent need to squeeze her.
For she knew well the subterfuge of makeup and of dressing
to keep all of her paramours both interested and guessing.

A masterpiece of camouflage, she dressed to win their favor—
the cynosure of attention who changed in age and flavor

from audience to audience—one day serene and regal,
the next day fluffy as whipped cream, appearing barely legal.
She kept admirers captive for so many years
that she outlived all her children and outlived all her peers.

But when at last she succumbed to inevitable fate,
making her grand entrance through that pearly gate,
all the hosts of heaven bowed down to all her glory
having no idea how wrinkled and how gory
she was beneath her raiment and the mask that met their eyes.
It was only the next morning that they saw through her disguise.

For alas, on trips to heaven, carry-ons are not allowed
and responsibility for checked bags disavowed.
So she arrived without her makeup, her wigs and all the stuff
she’d used throughout her lifetime to powder, paint and buff
herself to fine perfection. Without her wigs and clothes,
she had no other choice except to finally disclose

that she was just the girl next door—albeit so much older—
her visage creased and wrinkled, stooped over at the shoulder.
Her breasts were much deflated and her color merely sallow.
Without the false eyelashes, her eyes were strangely shallow.
And as she looked into the mirror, she finally faced the facts.
She could sink into her rocking chair and finally relax!

 

The prompt words today are fumble, magical, masterpiece and cynosure. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/rdp-thursday-fumble/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/12/13/fowc-with-fandango-magical/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/masterpiece/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/12/13/your-daily-word-prompt-cynosure-December-13-2018/

Comfortable Mortality

Comfortable Mortality

After living my life, I must pay the price,
but I don’t want to die by fire or ice.
Not toasted by flames or frosted with snow.
A temperate death is the best way to go.

The prompt today was “Flames.”